


karasuno nine

by orphan_account



Series: superpowered volleyball children [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Sorry Not Sorry, and then it became this, i keep seeing these nifty keen wings aus floating around ao3 and i wanted one, there needs to be a support group for authors who get too invested in their own au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yachi can move things with her mind, Kageyama can't play Pokemon without murdering a DS, and Hinata is a really great actor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i fucked up   
> hi im skar and this is my debut in hq fandom (complete with rarepairs . .. .)

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

Her name was Hitoka Yachi. She wasn't tall or loud or good at sports or playing an instrument. Her favorite color was yellow, and she liked star-shaped hair clips and instrumental soundtracks and world history. She took good notes and got high scores in school, high enough to enter university prep classes a year early, and the teachers liked her because she was quiet and didn't talk much aside from the occasional answer to a question.

But she had a friend.

Shouyou Hinata was short and loud and fell asleep in class all the time. Friends since elementary, he and Yachi had ended up at the same high school through a stroke of sheer luck. They traveled separately in the mornings—he took his bike, she rode the bus—and waited for each other after school every day, occasionally stopping by the convenience store to buy candy or canned drinks. If the weather was nice, they sat on the swings in the park and did their homework together until Hinata's younger sister borrowed his mom's phone to tell him she was going to eat his dinner. They hung out on the weekends when Hinata got tired of trying to finish his assignments, playing video games at each other's houses and tagging the walls up with pencil doodles. Occasionally, they went for karaoke with some of Hinata's friends from the sports clubs. It was fun; Hinata got her to sing the openings of popular cartoons with him, and people laughed and called them cute.

Some people thought her life was simple, even boring, but it didn't matter to her. She went to sleep every night with a smile on her face and dreamed of the futures written in the stars.

Then she got superpowers, and everything pretty much went to hell.

* * *

 

On a Saturday morning in the middle of spring, Yachi wakes up hovering four feet above her bedroom floor.

She screams. Loudly. The pillow plummets to the ground, and she goes with it; although it manages to cushion the blow of the drop, she still bangs her elbow against the dresser.

"Ow," murmurs Yachi to the carpet. The carpet doesn't say anything, likely because it is more used to being stepped on than being addressed by anyone, but someone does bang on the ceiling in response. She cups her hands around her mouth and calls a quiet apology to the downstairs neighbors before sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with a pastel-pink sleeve. Her pillow is lying on the floor next to her, looking fluffy and innocent and completely incapable of floating in the middle of the air, and Yachi scoots gently away from it before she quite realizes how utterly ridiculous she's being.

"It's a pillow," she tells herself sternly. However, it's also good to err on the side of caution, so she crawls over to her work desk and grabs a pencil. Gently, she eases closer to the relative back of the pillow and stretches out her right arm so the tip of its eraser is almost touching the surface.  _Closer, closer..._

And... nothing happens.

Yachi stares at the pencil in her hand for a second and wants to laugh at the entire situation.  _I'm a sixteen-year-old girl afraid of some fabric and a few feathers,_  she thinks incredulously, and that's the end of it; the pencil goes back into its case and the pillow gets lobbed carelessly onto the bed and she heads out of her room in search of food. A thorough canvassing of the kitchen reveals all the necessary ingredients to make blueberry pancakes, and any thought of floating objects is pushed to the back of her mind posthaste.

Pancakes are her favorite, but Yachi can't eat fourteen of them. Frowning, she heads into the hallway and removes her cell from its charger, speed dialing her best friend and holding it to her ear. Hinata answers with a mumble that may or may not be a good morning greeting, and Yachi remembers belatedly that she is part of a minuscule population readily awake before noon on a weekend. Still, she only has to say the word  _food_  before he is ten times more alert.

"Made too much again?"

Yachi quirks a grin. "Maybe."

"I'll be right over," says Hinata, before there is a loud bang and a crackle of static. He swears loudly. Yachi scolds him for his language and reminds him to bring his backpack, and he retorts with a complaint about having fallen off the bed and some jab about having a mom friend. She hangs up laughing.

Back in her room, Yachi tugs a brush through her hair and rummages atop her dresser for her favorite pair of hair clips. Hinata's seen her in her pajamas too many times to count, so she doesn't bother changing; besides, he's fast on his bike and she probably won't have time to shower beforehand. She stands in front of the mirror and twists up her side ponytail, humming a tune from Pokemon Platinum as she does so. Hinata was trying to catch one of the legendaries for the entire free period yesterday and the music is stuck in her head.

It's when she reaches for the second star-shaped clip that Yachi accidentally jostles the dresser, sending her precariously balanced iPhone plummeting to the floor face-first. She cringes, remembering the solemn faces of her classmates as they informed her of the newest version's fatal flaw: the complete inability to take any type of drop whatsoever.  _No_ _,_  she thinks,  _please stop falling,_   _Mom's_   _going_   _to_   _be_   _furious—_

As if catering to her wishes, the phone halts an inch from the floor. Yachi goes very, very still.

* * *

 

Yachi's phone isn't the only thing that levitates.

She's contemplating this new development when Hinata bursts into her room twenty minutes later without so much as a warning, blurting something about how someone opened the downstairs for him but he got worried when she didn't answer her door so he picked the lock how Kageyama taught him,  _and since I didn't break the door it's okay, right?_

"No, that's  _not_  okay!" Yachi retorts, completely forgetting about her current situation. "Who's Kageyama and why are you two going around picking locks, of all things?"

"It was  _once!"_  Hinata cries defensively. "We left our school stuff in the classroom after detention, and the teacher had left already!"

"Right." Yachi glares at him again as she sits back down, but this time her gaze holds no true ire. Hinata's relief is palpable as he flops haphazardly next to her on the mattress, making the springs groan in protest. He stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across the ceiling for a bit before suddenly springing upright and almost knocking them both out.

"Yachi, what's wrong? You looked like you saw ten ghosts at the same time just now."

"Oh." Yachi's stomach lurches uncomfortably. Hinata's sudden appearance in her room nearly made her forget about earlier.

"Seriously," says Hinata, flicking a glance in her direction. "What happened?"

In lieu of a response, Yachi makes a vague hand motion in the direction of her desk across the room. Everything on its surface rises into the air and stays there, hovering gently in midair.

"That."

Hinata makes a strangled noise as he stares at the pencil case, the two notebooks, the laptop and the small scented candle floating above the desk. He turns the exact shade of the wall, and Yachi thinks she'd better do something before he straight up passes out on the floor.

"So!" she pipes up nervously, edging towards the doorway. "Breakfast?"

* * *

 

A short while later, the duo has relocated to the kitchen for sustenance. Hinata perches on the middle island counter with his plate propped on his knees, consistently missing his mouth with the fork as he watches Yachi summon utensils from across the room with nothing more than a snap of her fingers. For her part, Yachi is seated at the kitchen table, facing Hinata as she drowns her pancakes in syrup and butter before cutting the stack into evenly-shaped triangles and digging in.

"So, uh." Hinata puts his fork down next to him after he fails to redirect it properly to his mouth for the third time and flicks a wary gaze in Yachi's direction. "How long have you been doing this, exactly?"

"Hmmmf ghhfj," replies Yachi cheerfully. She swallows and clarifies with her fork, drawing a circle in midair. "Two hours."

"Two hours." Hinata stares down at his plate, contemplating his pancakes with an odd look on his face.

"I know it's freaky," Yachi tells him through her second pancake. "No one normal levitates things—Hinata,  _please_  don't tell anyone—"

Hinata's offended look tells Yachi all she needs to know even before he opens his mouth to counter, and she feels an immense rush of relief coupled with a flash of guilt for doubting him.

"Of  _course_  I'm not gonna tell anybody! I know how to keep a secret!"

Thankfully, the sound of Hinata's phone slices neatly through the beginnings of his tirade. It's the chorus of 2NE1's "Hate You", and Yachi wonders who he dislikes enough to not only seek out that particular audio clip, but to retain it as a caller ID.

"Kageyama," grumbles Hinata into the phone, a dark look descending across his features as he hops off the island and shoves more pancakes into his mouth. "It's nine in the morning, what do you want?"

Yachi polishes off her breakfast and tries to appear like she's not shamelessly eavesdropping on her friend's side of the conversation. Most of it is him yelling at Kageyama for something or other, including but not limited to the usage of the insult "dumbass," but the reason behind the call is what catches her interest.

"Listen, are you stupid? Buildings don't just  _disappear_ _."_

Evidently, Kageyama doesn't take too kindly to this statement. Wincing, Hinata holds the phone away from his ear and exchanges a few more words ("get Tsukki to help you or something, god") before muttering a cursory goodbye into the receiver and hanging up.

"If you don't like him that much, why are you two still friends?" Yachi downs her juice and shoves her chair back, picking up her plate.

"Well...I don't really know." Hinata looks vaguely perplexed as he contemplates the question.

Yachi shakes her head at him as she loads the dishwasher. "You're incredible."

_"Hey!"_

* * *

 

Since it's pouring outside, Hinata elects to flop across the living room couch and play Pokémon while Yachi goes to shower and change into something that's not pyjamas. She tugs on the first clean shirt to manifest itself and fervently hopes that it matches the shorts she's picked before dashing back into the living room with her 3DS in hand and a determined expression on her face.

"I'm gonna curbstomp your new team!"

"Oh yeah?" Hinata smirks and pokes his head out from between the couch cushions, flyaway orange hair sticking up even more because of static cling. "Don't count on it."

They spend the entire morning and most of the afternoon battling and trading back and forth for purposes of completing their respective games. It's only when Yachi chances a glance at her watch that she leaps up in a panic, sending Hinata into the kitchen to whip up something remotely edible while she flings school supplies helter-skelter across her bedroom in a mad search for the weekend's assignments. Working together, they transform the living room table into something they can potentially glean educational value from before Yachi's mom arrives and inquires about their homework, which neither have started despite the communal knowledge that they are singularly not great at English. Hinata complains about having to do work and Yachi threatens him with bodily harm and another defeat in battle. Her fork and a pencil fly off the table to jab at him, accentuating her words, and they both stare at the items for a moment.

"...You've  _got_  to get that under control."

"Stop talking and translate this passage."

Hinata takes the book from her and disappears from eye level, sinking onto the floor with a muffled groan of distress. Yachi rolls her eyes at his theatrics and snags his notebook while he's not paying attention, comparing his notes against hers and correcting mistakes with pastel highlighters. They finish their homework just as Yachi's mom gets home; with a nod of approval towards Hinata's carefully-constructed dictionary tower, she inquires if he would like to stay for dinner. Hinata responds sheepishly in the negative and says he really should get going because he promised to take his sister to a friend's tonight. He grabs his backpack and his bike and Yachi heads for the elevator with him so she can check today's mail.

It's just like any other Saturday, and that's what scares her the most.

"Hinata?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it wrong of me to hope that my...this..." Yachi gestures helplessly to her house keys, suspended in midair, "is gone by tomorrow?"

"Not really," responds Hinata, shrugging as the lift beeps at them. "From what I heard, so did some of the others."

Yachi stares at him, eyes as wide as the volleyball charms on his backpack. Hinata realizes the potential of the information he's just divulged a second too late and slams every single button on the elevator in a panic.

"Holy shit, Kageyama is going to  _kill_  me."

The doors hiss open, punctuating the end of his sentence, and before Yachi can get a word in edgewise Hinata's dragged his bike through the doors and hauled ass onto the seventh-floor stairwell. She stares after him until the doors close, too shocked to move a muscle.

 _The_   _others_ _._

"I'm not the only one," whispers Yachi to the empty elevator; although her voice is quiet, her words echo around the walls with the force of a detonation.

* * *

 

Yachi doesn't see Hinata again until the end of Monday's homeroom, solidifying her suspicion that Hinata knows a lot more about avoidance policy (and acting) than she originally gave him credit for. It's hard to corner a friend who knows exactly where you're going to look, so she resorts to other methods for information.

"Kageyama?" Michimiya inhales a rice ball whole, mulling the name over as she chews. She's sitting on the ground next to Yachi and using the curb as a makeshift table for three bento boxes. It's finally stopped raining, and the ground is dry enough that students have started heading to the roof for lunch again; although Yachi herself has just begun secondary school, most of her friends are third years, which means she can get away with rooftop lunches by proxy.

"If anyone says anything about it, I got your back," Michimiya assured her the first time Yachi joined them, and that was that.

"Isn't he in your year?" Kiyoko examines the bag of rolls and picks out the melon bread before passing it to Yachi. They've lucked out today; the lunch rush was late for some reason, enabling the duo to buy their favorites without getting flattened by a massive crowd of hungry high schoolers.

"Yeah," affirms Yachi, accepting the bag and taking a huge bite of her steamed bun. It's probably better warm, but the teachers' lounge is the only place with an accessible microwave and she would rather not receive a detention in the middle of spring. "I think he's in Hinata's class."

"I heard he was killer at volleyball," says a girl with bleach-blond hair, taking a seat next to Michimiya and snatching a rice ball.

"I really appreciate you  _asking_   _permission_ _,_  Suiko." The other girl rolls her eyes but doesn't actually stop her; Yachi deduces correctly that she is probably one of Michimiya's teammates.

Suiko shrugs unapologetically. "They called him the king," she continues between bites of her stolen sustenance. "He was a fantastic setter, but he ran a strict dictatorship. No one could hit the balls he set up, and he got booted off his old team after the last game because he basically acted like a piece of shit."

 _"Language,"_  Yachi and Kiyoko say at the same time, and Michimiya snickers.

"Jeez, it's not like the teachers care!" retorts Suiko indignantly, polishing off the rice ball and reaching for another. "Most of them think it's too much work to write up a discipline slip."

"That's not an excuse," Kiyoko counters, sparking a mock argument on the principles of swearing as defined by the staff of Karasuno High. Yachi stops paying attention, mulling Suiko's story over in her head as she unwraps her bread.

 _Kageyama_ _,_   _king_   _of_   _the_   _court_ _._

He obviously doesn't play volleyball here, otherwise the rumor would have flown much faster. It makes sense that Suiko, class-A wing spiker and class-S gossip, would know about a fallen urban legend, but the story leaves her with more questions than answers: namely, why Hinata puts up with him on a daily basis.

Frowning, Yachi finishes her lunch and shoves aside the dilemma for later, yanking out her notes to study for next period's English quiz. Michimiya leans over to point out a translation mistake; she thanks the older girl gratefully and crosses her fingers that someone's informed Hinata as well.

* * *

 

No one tells Hinata.

"I think I failed that quiz," Hinata says morosely, slumping onto his desk in front of her.

 _Old habits die hard,_  thinks Yachi before remembering why she's here. "We need to talk."

There is a substitute for their free period, and Hinata takes advantage of this fact to get two hall passes written at the same time; they exit the classroom without incident.

"Don't yell at me," blurts Hinata the second they're out of earshot.

"I wasn't going to," answers Yachi bluntly. "I just have questions. And you're gonna answer them."

Hinata gulps nervously at her declaration and stammers something that may or may not be an affirmative. They continue to the relative seclusion of the bubbler at the end of the hallway; Yachi checks to make sure no one is coming before she rounds on her friend.

"When the  _heck_  did you become such a good actor?"

"Wh-what?"

"Jeez!" Yachi says, glaring at him. "I would have believed you completely if you hadn't said what you did in the elevator, you know?"

"I, uh..." Hinata looks completely confused by this turn of events, and Yachi thinks she should probably clarify herself.

"I'm not mad at you, Hinata. But I do want an explanation."

"You weren't supposed to know," mumbles Hinata, staring at his sneakers. "The whole point was for you to find everyone on your own--but seriously, that's gonna take forever, what is Daichi even _thinking—"_

"How many is 'everyone'? asks Yachi quietly, not sure if she wants to know the answer. "And who's Daichi?"

"That's the thing," Hinata replies, looking pained. "I can't tell you."

_"Hinata."_

"Seriously, I can't!" Her friend plows resolutely through her protests. "It's like a gag order. I'll choke for like five minutes if I blab too much. It happens to all of us...did you try telling your mom you can make things float?"

Yachi shakes her head no, floored by Hinata's words. "Is...is there anything you  _can_  tell me?"

"A little bit." Hinata nods, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the floor. A teacher rounds the corner, eyeing them suspiciously, and he quickly pretends to be filling his water bottle. Yachi waits, holding her breath.

"First off. Whatever you've heard about Kageyama probably isn't true."

"What's that got to do with anything?" demands Yachi, but Hinata continues as though she hasn't spoken.

"He's got a crappy attitude, but he's not a complete asshole. His old team booted him off because he couldn't control his power and ended up completely shorting out the gym during a practice. He agreed to use the excuse that he was a shitty team player, and they staged a believable final match so he could transfer somewhere he could train properly."

"Karasuno," breathes Yachi.  _Of course._

"Yup," confirms Hinata. "That's how we met, actually. I kinda figured it out when he accidentally set off the breakers in the west wing."

Yachi digests this information slowly, leaning over to take a sip of water. As she straightens, wiping her mouth, she remembers something else.

"You said a building went missing on Saturday. Does this have anything to do with it?"

Hinata cringes, pressing himself to the wall as though he's fighting a physical injury. "All I can tell you is that it wasn't the  _building_  that disappeared, and we sort of maybe have a huge problem on our hands."

"So until I figure this out, I'm pretty much on my own. Comforting."

"You could try talking to Kageyama," suggests Hinata. "He can tell you who Daichi and Tsukki are, for one."

 _Everyone has clearance for different pieces of the puzzle,_  thinks Yachi glumly.  _This is going to take a while._

"Anyway, see you in class!" Hinata dashes down the hallway and nearly trips over his shoelace, making his escape with all the subtlety of a brick wall; Yachi stifles laughter as she trails him at a relatively safer pace.

* * *

 

It's not until much later that Yachi realizes she still has no idea what Hinata can do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does a sick backflip* *breaks a window* maccas
> 
> this chapter goes out to my homegirl eve <333
> 
> ***eDIT: SUGAWARA DAICHI??? F UCkiNg

Kageyama Tobio may have been a king in a past life, but in his current state he is the complete opposite of a royal presence.

Kings don't fall out of bed at the sound of their alarms while using every swear word in their arsenal. Kings don't spend five minutes trying to put on an oddly-shaped shirt only to discover it is actually a pair of black capris. Kings _definitely_ don't dash out of the house with a pack of frosted Poptarts and a chocolate milk box in hand, sliding into the seat of a friend's car with barely a second to spare.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, kings react with grace and poise to the problems set in their paths, recognizing that the appropriate response to the phrase "Kageyama, go out with me" does not actually involve inhaling copious amounts of udon noodles.

* * *

 

Yachi realizes her mistake when Kageyama starts choking violently on his lunch.

"Um. Outside," she clarifies hurriedly, cringing at her terribly-worded request from seconds earlier. "Go outside with me. To talk."

"What, on the roof?" A sleepy-eyed second year Yachi recognizes from her art class eyes her with interest. "It's pouring out there. You'll both be drenched."

"Not the roof!" blurts Yachi quickly. Electricity and water don't mix, and according to what Hinata told her yesterday, Kageyama Tobio is essentially a walking power plant. "...Outside the lunchroom. It'll be quick, I swear."

"Better be," Kageyama mutters, voice rough from near-death by noodle bowl. He clears his throat and kicks his chair away from the table, downing the rest of his water in one go before picking up his tray and depositing it in the trash. "I have homework to finish."

The small part of Yachi's mind that is not occupied with freaking out over the fact that this first year is _tall_ notices that he sounds exactly like Hinata and files this tidbit away for later as they head down the hallway. She has to hurry to keep up with his strides, and by the time they've sufficiently distanced themselves from the lunchroom she is half-jogging to keep up.

Kageyama leans against the wall, fixing her with an impassive stare as she catches up to him. "So?"

Yachi's never been the best at talking to others, and her current conversational partner is not helping matters by being downright terrifying. She takes a deep breath _(you can do this you can do this you can do this)_ and hopes that whatever she says next is somewhat coherent.

"Is it true you blacked out the west wing by accident?"

It's a complete sentence, at least. Yachi winces as Kageyama's expression cycles through confusion, shock and—embarrassment?—before settling on flat-out annoyance.

"You called me out here for _that?"_

"N-no!" Yachi shakes her head furiously, nearly smacking herself in the face with her own ponytail. Since words are rapidly escaping her grasp, she swings her school bag off her shoulder and drops it onto the stairs, stretching out an arm and willing her powers to work once more. "Umm...look."

Her dark-haired companion's impassive expression is rapidly replaced by one of sheer terror as he notices the lavender backpack rising gently into the air in front of him.

"What the fu—"

"Don't swear!" Yachi scolds out of habit before her brain catches up with her mouth. Blushing furiously, she stares down at her sneakers, noticing with some consternation that her socks don't match. Soft pink butterflies trail their way gently up her right ankle while primary-colored polka dots adorn her left, and she vows to reorganize her drawers as soon as she gets home.

"Put that _down!"_ Kageyama hisses, eyes wide. "Are you insane?"

"Hinata told me to talk to you about this," manages Yachi, motioning towards the backpack in the air.

"Levitation, huh." Kageyama runs a hand through his hair, looking as though he'd like the ceiling to drop on his head and remove him from the situation entirely. "Who was I supposed to tell you about?"

"Someone named Daichi." Yachi scoops her bag off the floor.

"Sawamura Daichi, third year, soccer captain, officially missing," recites Kageyama in the same tone one would use to read out a grocery list: _milk, eggs, bread, a handful of high schoolers with unnatural powers._ "I have math homework to finish."

"The math homework is three pages and there's five minutes until lunch is over," Yachi retorts, momentarily forgetting her conversational anxiety. "What do you mean, he's missing?"

"Exactly what I said." Kageyama scowls down at her, and Yachi tries not to be intimidated by his expression. "No one's seen him since Saturday, and three of the others cut today to search. We're taking turns. Next is me and Hinata, and I guess you, if you can find the rest of us by then and still want to join this train wreck."

Yachi opens her mouth to ask what, exactly, she would be joining, but the words "I'll tutor you" somehow make their exit instead.

"What?" Kageyama stares at her.

"The math." Bravely, Yachi solders on, wishing for the ability to phase into the floor instead of levitation. "I'll...help you with the homework. But you have to help me too."

"Tsukishima Kei."

"What?"

"'Tsukki'. But don't call him that to his face, he'll flip his shit." Kageyama glances around, as though checking to make sure no one is paying attention before he continues. "There's this hole-in-the-wall bakery-type thing around the corner from the school. You probably have a better chance of finding him there after class is over."

The bell rings obnoxiously, cutting their conversation short as the lunchroom starts to empty. Yachi strains to hear Kageyama's parting words before he vanishes into the growing crowd; when she processes what he's said, she slides down the wall in despair.

* * *

 

"Mind reading," Yachi tells the crow perched on her bike basket as she unlocks her bike after school. "I could have been up against anything. Invisibility, super speed, flying even. But no, of course not. It just had to be _mind reading."_

The crow tilts its head curiously, as if wondering why this human is giving it words instead of food. Yachi sighs dispassionately and reaches into her bag for the melon bread she's been saving for later, rustling open the wrapper and breaking off a piece for the bird. It squawks noisily at her, obviously expecting the treat to be delivered straight to its beak, but Yachi shakes her head firmly as she places it on the ground.

"Nope. Off the bike. I'm leaving in a bit."

With a hasty flutter of wings, the crow relocates itself to the sidewalk to retrieve its purloined meal. Yachi looks both ways before kicking up the stand and climbing onto her bicycle, repeating to herself the directions she received from two second years headed the same way. She spends the entire ride daydreaming up potential ways to use telepathy and nearly misses the shop as a result; hastily, she doubles back to the nondescript edifice with the neatly-drawn sign balanced precariously from the doorpost. As she kneels near the rack to lock her bike, she notices the typewriter-like letters listing out the specials on the easel next to it. The melon bread from earlier pales in comparison to the German chocolate cake, black-and-white cookies and red velvet cupcakes advertised in multicolored chalk, and she can practically hear her stomach growling.

Bike successfully secured, Yachi stands up and pushes open the bakery door before she loses her nerve.

It's....different than she expected, for sure. The bell on the door chimes as she closes it, one singular melodic note echoing across the cafe, and those nearest the door pause for a moment to glance upwards. Yachi's nervousness returns in full force, but she shoves it aside to focus on the mission at hand.

The queue is large but moves quickly—too quickly, Yachi thinks, because she still has no idea if this will work—and she's at the front of the line in no time at all. The person behind her shifts impatiently, and she fights the urge to glare at him as she relays her order to the student employee with the headphones and the hoodie.

"Hi...strawberry shortcake, please?"

The effect is instantaneous. Shaken out of his music-induced stupor, the cafe employee meets her gaze with surprisingly bright eyes and an expression that somehow manages to channel both disinterest and surprise.

"Come again?"

"Strawberry shortcake," repeats Yachi haltingly. A nagging suspicion surges forward, and she reads his name tag to stave off the thought that she might have asked for something that isn't actually on the menu. _Kei,_ it says, written across the erase-board tag in the same neat font that graced the easel outside, and she blinks a little in surprise because isn't Kei...

"Tsukki...shima," and she stumbles over the end because until now she's only heard the mysterious mind reader referred to by a nickname that is apparently the bane of his existence. "Um. Can I...talk to you?"

Tsukishima gives her a withering glare and replaces his headphones, not bothering with a response. _No, go away,_ says his entire being, and Yachi hurriedly pays for her order before making her way towards the furthest table from the counter.

 _Conversation is hard._  Yachi buries her face in her hands in a failed attempt to erase her embarrassment. The wind chime makes a different sound every time someone enters or exits the cafe, and she starts counting the bells attached to the thin wire construct hanging above the door frame. There are only nine of them, which explains absolutely nothing, and Yachi can feel her level of irritation with this entire day rising exponentially. Her phone died sometime after lunch and her conversation with Kageyama, and although her DS is burning a hole in her bag, she murdered the battery by playing Pokémon in study hall earlier. Left with nothing to do, she sinks back to the surface of the table and presses her face against the pleasantly cool tiles, awaiting her dessert and subsequent demise.

"Six hundred and thirty-four possible tones, but none of them were the one you heard."

There are two plates of strawberry shortcake in front of her instead of one, and as delectable as the twin desserts look, Yachi knows she only ordered a single confection. She glances up and nearly chokes on air when she sees who it is.

"Well?" Tsukishima scoffs and practically jabs the fork he's holding at her. "I don't have all day."

"Right," manages Yachi, taking the utensil and carefully sliding a plate of shortcake over to her side of the table. Tsukishima kicks out the chair opposite her and sits down, repossessing the other plate before he addresses her again.

"You have ten minutes. What do you want to know?"

Yachi gives him a pointed look (because he can _read her mind_ ) and carefully pokes her eating utensil into the dessert, hesitating. She's never had strawberry shortcake in her life, so she hopes for the best and braces for the worst as she lifts the fork to her mouth.

"So you know, then." Tsukishima looks vaguely disappointed as he takes a bite of his shortcake. "Looks like the idiot did his job for once."

Yachi wants to say something, but she's too busy being floored by the quality of her first taste of pastry.

"This is fantastic. I want ten."

"Of course it's fantastic. I made it," responds Tsukishima without any hesitation. "That aside, I suppose I should tell you about the Karasuno Nine before my break ends."

"Ka'suo Ine?" Yachi manages through a huge mouthful of cake.

"Slow down!" Tsukishima glares at her. "You're going to ruin the taste."

Yachi swallows. "Sorry. What did you say?"

"Karasuno Nine," Tsukishima enunciates more clearly, adjusting his headphones. "I'm going to show you, because this will take too long otherwise."

 _"Show_ me?" Yachi freezes with the fork halfway to her mouth.

"Show you," confirms Tsukishima, and the table falls out from under them.

* * *

 

Karasuno Nine, as it turns out, is not the name of a street gang or a secret organization or a mysterious channel of spies. Rather, nine ordinary students with extraordinary abilities came to the mutual decision to protect their city from assorted grievances. They raised hell and made headlines and became an urban legend; people referred to them in hushed tones and scrutinized the population of the local high school with more intensity than before.

They were powerful, but they weren't invincible. The first of the first years graduated and the less serious second years took their place and someone blew a hole in the side of the high school while "experimenting" in the chemistry lab, thereby converting the east wing into a set of rickety trailers until further notice.

 _We help, not hinder,_ said year-one Daichi with a dark look. The Karasuno Nine split directly along the middle and became the Karasuno Four, disbanding in disgrace to the tune of a hundred unfavorable rumors.

Until last year.

"The fallen angels, the flightless crows." Tsukishima gestures mockingly with his fork as the world around them returns to normal. "They plummeted from grace by their own hands, and Sawamura Daichi thinks we can fix their mistakes."

The best thing about mental scanning, Yachi thinks, is that the telepath knows the insult you're about to fire before you say it. Tsukishima twitches, but steamrollers on.

"Last Saturday, a building vanished. Daichi was inside. We're currently dealing with the aftereffects, which involve a fair amount of supernatural phenomena, as well as your entry exam."

"So _that's_ what this is," Yachi deadpans. "A giant test."

"Break's over." The telepath stands up, scraping his chair against the floor; metal screeches against tile, causing Yachi to cringe involuntarily. "So is my freedom of speech, apparently."

 _Gag order._ Yachi sags in her seat.

"Gag order." Tsukishima gives her a nod of acquiescence as he picks up his plate and makes his exit, turning around to deliver the final piece of information he's allowed to divulge.

"The next of us is basically the human equivalent of a torch. If you're lucky, he'll remain awake long enough for you to carry on a conversation."

Yachi takes her plate to the trash and contemplates ordering something else, but it's getting late and her phone is still dead. Besides, Tsukishima has disappeared from the front, and she suspects that the person who's about to replace him at the counter does not know how to make the caliber of dessert she's just sampled.

"Damn straight he doesn't," Tsukishima says scornfully from behind her. "You're blocking the door."

 _"Get out of my head."_ Yachi slams her plate into the bin a little harder than necessary and storms back to the table for her bag.

* * *

 

Yachi charges her phone the instant she steps through the door, returning her mother's phone call with a hurried apology and an explanation before tackling Hinata's pile of emoji-riddled messages. He's at the doctor, leaving her with no one to battle, so she flops backwards on her bed and starts checking StreetPasses for lack of anything better to do.

By the seventh pass, she's extremely glad she did. Tsukishima's Mii is wearing a Link hat, and his favorite game is Tomodachi Life.

* * *

 

Wednesday brings more rain and Ennoshita Chikara, who quietly puts out the flames licking up her left sleeve in chemistry lab with his bare hands.

"Something on your mind?" he asks her, yawning widely as he brushes soot off his palms.

"You could say that," answers Yachi distractedly. She compares her lab manual to the title on the board; not only is she on the wrong page, but she has just mixed two highly incompatible chemicals.

Ennoshita examines the clear vial. "This is going to blow up soon."

"It is," agrees Yachi. She opens the window and looks around for passerby before levitating the vial outside and flinging it as high up as she can.

"You're the ninth of us, then." Ennoshita says, yawning again. "Sorry. Rain makes me sleepy."

"I've heard," replies Yachi dryly, returning to their station and retrieving two new vials. "Let's try this again."

They complete the experiment properly this time, and then they talk. The fifth of the Karasuno Nine likes salt pineapple, Pacific Rim and video game instrumentals, and he thinks their team leader went willingly into a trap but didn't count on the fact that he wouldn't be able to escape alone.

"He reminds me of Kuroo." Ennoshita's organizing their vials while they wait for class to officially end. "He used to rush headlong into things too. We had some injuries."

Yachi scribbles her name atop the lab sheet. "Who's Kuroo?"

"He transferred to Nekoma," answers her lab partner, borrowing her pencil to do the same.

"Why?"

"Dunno." Ennoshita starts examining their workstation a little too intently.

He sounds sad. Yachi stops asking questions.

Later, she makes the acquaintance of Nishinoya Yuu, who talks a mile a minute and runs about a hundred times faster. He brings the total count to six, leaving two people for Yachi to meet before she can join Kageyama and Hinata's superpowered version of Where In The World Is Sawamura Daichi.

 _All powered up with nowhere to go,_ muses Yachi as she exchanges her textbooks for her lunch and the novel she picked up from the school library this morning. She makes it maybe halfway to her destination before Nishinoya yells her name across the lunchroom, gesturing wildly for her to join their table.

“Hey, Yachi!”

Yachi very nearly turns around and leaves, not relishing the idea of spending an entire lunch period watching Ennoshita nod off into his curry, but obligation guides her feet after she catches sight of the scribbled equation atop Kageyama's napkin. She drops her book and her lunch at an empty seat and uses the incorrect formula to wipe up a spill near an irate Tsukishima's tray.

"Why'd you do that?!" Kageyama looks horrified, reaching for the dirty napkin in an attempt to salvage the ink marks on it.

"Because it was wrong." Yachi tugs the crumpled tissue away from him and borrows Tsukishima's pen, examining his homework critically. "Is this an integral or curry?"

Nishinoya peers over her shoulder, scrutinizing the suspicious mark. "Looks like curry."

"Shut up!" Kageyama hisses at him.

"Your ears are turning red," observes Tsukishima as he picks up Yachi's discarded novel.

Kageyama splutters and bypasses maroon, much to the amusement of the entire table; Yachi hides her laughter behind his textbook.

* * *

 

The rain picks up after classes, leaving the unsuspecting trio of first years stranded underneath the gymnasium awning discussing their options. Kageyama made the decision to forgo his carpool in favor of roller blades, which wouldn't have been much of a problem if it wasn't currently pouring outside. Naturally, neither he nor Hinata own an umbrella, and Yachi's only method of protection from the elements is sitting at home on the kitchen table.

"Remembered my DS, though," remarks the shortest member of their party sarcastically. "Maybe we can sacrifice Pokemon X to the rain gods."

"Battle me," says Kageyama immediately, swinging his backpack off one shoulder.

Yachi stares at him. "It's _raining."_

 _"I'll bat_ tle you," offers Hinata excitedly, pulling a bright red console out of his gym bag, and the third member of their party puts a hand to her face in despair.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, the trio is running for it. Kageyama's residence is even farther from school than Hinata's, so they elect to stop at Yachi's apartment to dry off and retrieve umbrellas. A great tactical decision, perhaps, but it doesn't stop them all from being soaked through by the time they reach the lobby.

Yachi wrings out her shirt sleeves and fishes her keys out of her purse. "Try not to drip too much," she instructs as she waves to the beleaguered hall attendant and leads the duo into the elevator.

"How am I supposed to do that?" demands Hinata, gesturing to his drenched shorts and causing water to fly everywhere.

Yachi cringes as the lift screeches to a halt on the fifth floor and rapidly flings open its doors, expelling them in a hurry. "Never mind."

Hinata calls dibs on the shower even before Yachi gets the key through the door. Kageyama swears inventively and follows him in, and Yachi wonders if it's worth informing them that she showers first because it's her bathroom they're using.

As it turns out, she doesn't need to. Hinata and Kageyama yell her name in panicked sync as she's emptying water from her sneakers.

"Yachi! There's a dead guy in your bathtub!"


End file.
